The Last Dixon
by TheAssassinFrom12
Summary: Alternate ending to Season 3 Episode 15 - This Sorrowful Life. In which Daryl finds Merle in the warehouse where he was shot by the Governor and stays with him until he dies.


**Hey y'all! So, got another Walking Dead Oneshot here! I know I said I'd be updating on short stories more often, but truth is, I have another idea for a story and I've been working on a lay out for it for awhile now and have finally started writing it! **

**Basically this new story I'm working on (yes it will have chapters) is about how Daryl and Merle grew up before the apocalypse. I'm not going to give too much away, but it will have a lot of feels involved, and since it is an AU, some other characters will make a few appearances, aside from the Dixons. I really don't want to give too much away for the plot, but I'm really excited about it! I already started the first chapter so hopefully that will be up soon!  
**

**Also! _Draco's Peril_ update... Yeah... Dunno what I'm doing with that. I need to re-read it so I can work on the last chapter, since I forgot about most of the crap that went on in that story. It's not abandoned I'm just being reallllyyyyy... _reallllyyyyy_ slow with it. But it will get done... Eventually. I just have a lot of inspiration to work on Walking Dead stuff, and right now, that's what I really wanna focus on, especially this new story I'm working on about the brothers...  
**

**Anyway! Enough of that... Let's talk about this story here! This one is basically just a different ending to Sorrowful Life. Daryl finds Merle in the warehouse where he was shot by Philip and stays with him until he dies. Truthfully, I wish that the bothers had more screen time together, or at least more family/bonding scenes like this one here, but since that didn't happen, I'm determined to just write some shit! **

**But yeah... Don't cry too much... I cried a lot while writing this. **

**There's no slash, cause they're brothers... And I no shippy the brothers! DX ****But It's rated_ T_ for gore, swearing and of course character death... And drowning in your tears...**

**So! Enough of me rambling! Enjoy the fic!**

**Also leave reviews, cause I love reviews! ^_^ Just, as always, be polite please! No meanies or trolls. Cause I don't take kindly to those. **

**Anywho, enjoy! **

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Michonne was walking quietly back to the prison, her katana in hand. She was alone, now, but just five minutes ago she was in a car with Merle Dixon on her way to be sacrificed to the Governor. But Merle let her go so he can face that awful man himself. Michonne couldn't help but feel guilty, even though there was nothing she could do to stop Merle from doing want he wanted to do. Still… it was a big step for the older Dixon to take – being brave like that and standing up for the prison – a place he never even wanted to call home and the people he never wanted to call family. However, he wasn't just doing it for the prison but for Daryl.

Michonne sighed when she began to approach a lone walker on the side of the road. The corpse seemed to notice her and turned to face its next morsel. The walker was slightly hunched and slouched on his right side. He reached his left hand outward to grab his living meal, but this thing was no match for someone like Michonne. With one quick swipe of her katana the walker's head was sliced clean off. Its body hit the ground with a thud and its head rolled into the grass until its face was facing upward at the sky, still alive and moving. Its jaw snapped at nothing and it still continued to moan.

Michonne grumbled and used her katana to stab the living head between the eyes until the brain was finally destroyed.

"Hey!"

Michonne heard a familiar voice say. She pulled her katana out of the walker's forehead and picked her head up with a soft sigh to herself. She knew who this person was and knew what he wanted. She just hated to face him now.

"Where's my brother?" Daryl growled.

Michonne's face fell, not knowing how to tell him.

Daryl looked at her blank expression, trying to find some sort of answer. He knew the news was bad, but didn't want to believe it. Michonne's expression told him everything. He felt his heart hammer in his chest with worry and anxiety, trying to push that horrible thought out of his mind. "You...kill 'em?" Daryl asked. He sounded hurt.

Michonne's shoulder's dropped and she just looked at the man before her, wanting to say she was sorry – that she had nothing else to do. She couldn't stop Merle even though she wanted to.

She finally just shook her head slowly, "He let me go…" She said and watched as Daryl's expression turned from shock to sudden anger.

The hunter scowled at her, and pushed by the woman, gripping his crossbow tighter. He knew exactly what Merle was doing and if he didn't get there in time… Well, he didn't want to think about it.

"Don't let no one come after me!" He growled and ran off.

Michonne sighed as she watched him leave, and continued on her way, knowing there was nothing she could do for either of them at this point. All she thought about as she walked back to the prison was how broken Daryl would be once he got back…And how the hell she was going to explain this to Rick.

The only place Daryl thought Merle might be was at the silos – the place that crossed Woodbury and the Prison and also the place where Rick was told to bring Michonne in two days after their meeting. It was the only location that made sense and the only one Daryl had right now.

He approached the place slowly, his crossbow loaded and ready. The first thing he saw was a car. An old looking abandoned car with the driver door wide open. Daryl looked around himself quickly before he ran to it, too desperate right now to care about the walkers. He quickly went to the driver side and peered inside, "Merle?" He whispered and then looked over into the back seat. Nothing.

He felt the anxiety building up as this scene only began to look more horrifying. When he pulled his head out of the car he was finally able to get a better look around.

There were bodies everywhere, walkers and humans. Some were torn to bits, just lying there with their guts and whatever else pooling out around them. Daryl gagged a little and looked away. He picked his head up and found the silos a little farther away from the car, and past that he noticed the warehouse Rick and Philip had their meeting in just two days ago.

He tried to stay out of eye and ear shot from the walkers and quickly snuck his way through the silos, trying to get to the warehouse. All the while he kept his guard up for nearby walkers. Luckily most of them were feeding on the dead bodies and the others that weren't seemed too far away to notice him. It would be pointless to kill them… As long as Daryl was quiet and quick he'd be able to sneak around them without being noticed.

But as he got closer to the warehouse he noticed the back door was open. Wide open.

Daryl froze for a moment, not sure if he actually wanted to go inside and face what was in there.

Finally he sucked in a breath and pushed forward. He was shaking so bad, so afraid to know what was inside this place.

He approached the door slowly and as he got there, he was able to make out a dead body on the ground. As he inched closer, with his crossbow aimed in front of him, he was able to verify the body to be of a walker. He gripped his crossbow tighter and held his finger over the trigger as he slowly moved to the walker's back, pressing his foot to its shoulder. When it didn't respond, that's when he noticed the gash in the corpse's head. He then bent down to examine this thing's dead and decaying body only to find out that the wound in its head was made from a knife or some kind of blade rather than a bullet. It only made sense. The wound wasn't shaped into a regular circle as if a bullet went straight through, but rather slashed with something sharp, or stabbed instead.

Daryl swallowed hard and searched the rest of the ground for any signs of a fight or struggle. He bent down a little and tilted his head at the ground.

The dirt was all rippled and ruffled with tracks and the grass was torn up from the soil. Daryl felt his breath catch in his chest. _What the hell happened?_ So much was going on here and it was too scattered to piece together just yet.

Finally he stood back up and looked at the door. The handle and lock were both broken, as if the thing was forced or kicked open.

Looking around himself one last time, Daryl finally stepped inside, though he was dreading every second of it. He made sure to close the door behind him so no walkers will get in, although he kept it open just a little since the thing wouldn't close all the way anyway.

For a moment Daryl just stood there, looking at the room before him. It was quiet… aside from the normal moaning and groaning coming from outside. But it was far too quit in here. "Pst! Merle…" Daryl whispered.

After he received no answer, he put a foot forward. The floor creaked a bit as he walked but not loud enough to draw any unwanted attention. Still, Daryl held his crossbow tight and kept it close to his chest just in case.

There were some spots of blood on the ground and the dust and dirt on the floor boards looked as if something slid across it. There were tracks as well, but they were too scattered and messy for Daryl to make out what really happened. Then something cracked under his feet. He froze and looked down, moving his foot slowly to revile a small bullet shell. But just one. Just then he noticed the blood on the floor, and on the wall nearest the small broken window of the warehouse.

The hunter felt himself trembling and he clung to his crossbow for dear life. "Merle?" Daryl asked, but his voice sounded small and scared with worry. "Merle it's me. It's Daryl. If yer in here, please, just say somethin'."

Just then he heard a soft and weak shuffle against the ground as if a small animal scurried across the floor somewhere.

Daryl followed the noise, "Thank God." He muttered to himself, hoping it was Merle. At least he got some kind of response, but the anxiety was still eating him alive.

Finally he approached the corner nearest the window and looked down. The hunter almost felt his heart stop when he suddenly faced the bloody and limp form sitting against the wall that was his brother.

The older man looked up at his younger half, his face bloody and his eyes hazy with exhaustion. Still, a slight look of relaxation formed on his face when he saw Daryl standing there. A sudden, but unrealistic thought crossed his mind: He was saved. But he knew it would have to end here, no matter how hard it would be to tell his brother that. Daryl was stubborn, hard headed. It wouldn't be easy to make him let go.

"Oh my God, Merle!" Daryl gasped, dropping his crossbow as he knelt in front of his brother. His shaking hands reached out helplessly, not really knowing where to put them on Merle's damaged form. He glanced over his brother's broken body for a moment. Merle was slightly slouched on his right side and his shoulder looked popped outward as if it were broken. The fingers on his left hand looked torn off and still gushing blood, staining the floorboards with crimson. Finally Daryl noticed the blood in the center of Merle's chest and the shallow rise and fall as his brother tried to breathe.

The younger already felt his limbs shaking and his eyes burning with emotion. He gently put his hand to the gunshot wound on Merle's chest, and no sooner did his fingers graze the fabric of his shirt, Merle hissed in pain. Daryl pulled back quickly.

The older Dixon opened his mouth to speak but all that came out was grunt of pain and a little bit of blood on the corner of his mouth.

"Merle… Oh my God… I…" Daryl's voice was shaking. He then took his eyes off the bullet wound and brought his gaze up to Merle's. The older's eyes were already slightly teary and for some reason it only made Daryl feel even more lost and weak. Never once has he ever witnessed Merle cry. Ever. It hurt. It hurt so much and he had no idea what to do. Just seeing his older brother cry like this, even if it were only a little bit, made him realize how bad this situation was. Still, Daryl didn't want to believe it.

"Thought you'd…" Merle tried to say, "Never get here…"

Daryl felt scared and sick. This was like the roof top all over again, only worse, and Merle's words were like a slap in the face. _You didn't save me. You were too late. Just like last time. You were too late then and you were too late now._

"Ya gotta stop runnin' off on me…" Daryl said hoarsely, his limbs quivering and eyes blurry with tears.

"No one else… woulda dun it." Merle said softly.

Daryl blinked allowing the tears to run down his face, "What? Do what? Take Michonne to the Governor? Look, ya know what, it don't matter. Come on. I'm takin' you back to the prison. Like it or not, you're getting your ass up and Hershel will take care of you." He said, grabbing Merle by his good arm and trying to hoist him to his feet. But his older half was too limp and the slightest movement or touch had him falling over or being in more pain then he originally was.

Merle tried to shove him off, "I ain't goin' nowhere, Daryl…"

The younger's heart was thumping faster and faster in his chest, unable to face the reality of this. "Yes you are! Get up, Merle!" He tried to grab him again but Merle just pushed him back with the side of his prosthetic. Daryl pulled back and their eyes met. Merle looked helpless, scared even, and Daryl looked broken. His eyes were glassy with tears and it was clear that he was trembling.

"Daryl. I can't move."

"Stop it." Daryl said suddenly. "The car is just outside! I can get you out of here, I can take you home."

Merle looked at him, a confused expression on his face for a moment. "Home? I never belong there… Neither have you, kid."

"No. We do. I've earned my place there, Merle, and so can you, just try! Please! You're with me now. I finally found your worthless ass, you can't…" He trailed off and lowered his head. Merle watched his brother's shoulders quiver as Daryl cried softly for a moment. Finally the hunter picked his head back up, "You can't leave me again."

"Daryl… I won't even make it to my feet."

"I really hate you sometimes, you fuckin' idiot! You had to leave me again! You just had to lie to me and take Michonne to the Governor only to let her go and face him yourself! How stupid are you!?"

Merle's expression was unmoving, "I had to protect you. Make up for lost time somehow."

"What?" Daryl asked, his voice cracking.

"It's what brother's do, right?"

The hunter blinked. Merle was never there to protect him. All his life all Merle did was leave and never had a clue of what was going on at home. Never had any clue of the abuse and the constant hell Daryl went through every day. His little brother was a survivor long before the apocalypse and Merle never had any idea. Now he wants to protect him from the Governor – protect the prison? Daryl wondered what Merle would have done if he really was there all his live – really did live through all the abuse with him. Would he have protected him then? Help him somehow? It is what older siblings do after all. Merle had a funny way of showing it, but he really did love his little brother – more than anything probably. In fact, Daryl meant the world to him. And now this was the only way he'd be able to show it.

"Oh God…" Daryl said, his voice finally breaking until he couldn't hold the emotion back any longer. "Don't." Daryl muttered, hanging his head and pressing his hands to the ground. His body was so stiff his limbs were hurting.

It hurt Merle to look at him but he just couldn't turn away, Seeing his brother so broken… It killed him. He regretted everything he never did in his life and wished he could take all those years back just to be there for him. And now he was leaving for good and would never get that chance.

"Daryl." Merle said, and gently nudged his brother's knee with his leg. He sounded serious, but also sad. As if he were asking his little brother to do him a favor he knew Daryl would hate.

The younger picked his head up after a bit of hesitation. When he looked at his older brother again he felt his blood go cold. Seeing him so sick looking and dying. Then it hit him. His face went straight as soon as he understood what Merle wanted to ask. The older tried to look sincere, but for Merle that was always a hard thing to do. But this was real. It was really ending and everything he felt right now was real. Sorrow, guilt, fear, pain…there was no hiding any of that now.

Merle's eyes trailed downward until he was looking at the knife at his brother's belt. Daryl watched this and when Merle brought his gaze back up at him, Daryl shook his head, "No." He said softly, "Don't you dare even think about it."

"I'll turn-"

"No you won't!"

"Daryl-"

"No, stop! Just… Stop…"

Merle tried to force a smirk, "Grow a pair, kid. You've spent most of your life without me."

"That was different. At least I knew you were out there somewhere…"

"Well… You told me dad died. You killed him when he was bit…"

Daryl shook his head, "No. I tried to, but I couldn't…"

The older narrowed his eyes, "After everything he's done to you? I wouldn't even hesitate."

"He was still our father and you're still my brother. Just… Try, Merle. Try to get up. You've been through so much worse. You can come back with me. You can be a rightful member of the group. It's always been us, right? It doesn't have to end now. We can still survive this together. We've been through Hell and back all our lives, this isn't any different!"

"No. You're better off without me, Darlina. I bought you some time. Now, you need to go back. Be ready for the Governor…"

"Not without you."

Merle shifted slightly with a grunt, "You're so thick headed, boy."

"Runs in the family."

The older looked at his brother, sorrow filling his eyes. "You're not leaving, are you?"

The corners of Daryl's mouth twitched with a sad smile before he moved his position so that he was sitting against the wall. Right next to Merle. "Not this time."

Merle tried to turn his head to look at him, "I'm not getting rid of you, huh?"

The hunter shifted closer and swallowed hard, feeling his eyes burning again. He couldn't even answer with the emotion building up in his throat, so all he did was shake his head.

"I'm sorry, Daryl." Merle said suddenly, his voice soft.

Daryl looked at him, his teary eyes confused, "For what?"

"Just… Everything." He coughed a bit and grunted in pain. A bit of blood ran down the side of his mouth and his breathing soon became more raspy and slow.

Daryl watched him suffering like this. His heart felt like it was being squeezed and ripped from his chest when reality was actually setting in. His brother was dying. And there was nothing he could do to stop it.

The hunter then moved closer so his shoulder was pressed to Merle's. His eyes soon became blurry with tears again and he cried softly as he looked away.

"Don't cry, dummy." Merle breathed, his eyes shut now.

Daryl sniffled and looked back up, sighing and trying to keep it somewhat together. But when he saw how fragile, pale and sick Merle was really starting to look, his insides felt poisoned. A part of Daryl wanted to believe that none of this was real. That Merle wasn't dying and that this was all just some sick and disgusting dream. That he'd wake up in his bed, alone in his small house within the mountains of North Georgia. He'd have his own, boring and horrible life back… He'd have Merle back. Anything was better than watching his brother die beside him like this. The other part of him _did_ believe that this was real. Merle really was leaving for good. They just found each other and he had to go and die on him now. This was really it. This was the end of them and the only person Daryl ever gave a fuck about. No matter how much of an asshole Merle was in his life, they were still brothers. They may have shown their emotions toward each other in strange ways, but they loved each other all the same. It didn't need to be said. They knew it. Just by Daryl sitting beside him until the end was enough. And just by Merle giving his life for his little brother was enough.

"Daryl." Merle tried to say.

The younger didn't answer, but Merle knew he was listening. "Don't let this stop you. You really did grow up and I'm proud of you, little brother. You were the person I could never be…" He trailed off. It took a lot and even though it hurt, he managed to open his eyes and turn his head. Daryl heard him move and met his gaze, his heart filling with pain at the sight of him. "I'll miss you, kid." Merle said. And that was all Daryl needed to hear. All he ever needed to hear. That was the closest thing he'd ever get to an 'I love you' from his brother. And it was enough to make him shatter.

The hunter had to turn away again, allowing himself to break. He didn't care. This was too much. It wasn't like Daryl to really cry. He did that a lot when he was younger, but he was grown up now… It took a lot to break him and Merle was enough. His brother was his weakness and he just couldn't take it anymore.

"Take care of that bike, bro, or so help me, I'll haunt your ass." Merle said, trying to add a bit of humor to his voice but could hardly manage it..

Daryl nodded and swallowed hard, unable to speak. He knew that _that _time was slowly coming. That horrible moment where he'd have to put that knife through his brother's skull to keep him from turning into one of _them_. And it was so hard to bring himself to realize that.

"So…" Merle began and Daryl picked his head up, their sad and longing eyes meeting one last time. "The last Dixon. Make me proud, little brother." And as hard as it was, Merle managed one last sad smile of hope for Daryl to keep going. Because he didn't want his brother to stop. Ever. He didn't want this world to break him. They both survived through so much before all this…Whether they were together or not.

Daryl swallowed hard and sniffled softly before nodding, "I will, Merle." He said, his voice broken and hardly sounding like his own anymore. He sounded like a little kid again… And that alone made Merle's eyes water. Because now, he wasn't looking at his grown up little brother but as that poor lost child that would cry himself to sleep every night. That little kid that would bury his face in his own pillow to hide the cuts and bruises. And that little, scared boy that was always afraid to get up in the morning. But no matter how much Merle wanted to say Daryl was grown up, he was still a little kid in his mind. He'd always be his little brother, no matter how old Daryl was.

Finally, Merle put the back of his head against the wall and shut his eyes. "See you again, brother…" The older breathed and Daryl watched him. He watched and heard Merle's breathing until it turned shallow. His breathing sounded slow and raspy until it soon stopped. His chest stopped rising and falling, and Merle went limp. Then his head tilted slightly to the side so that it was resting on Daryl's shoulder.

The younger felt his body shaking as all reality fell down on him at once. It was really over. Merle was gone. For good this time.

All Daryl could do was cry as he wrapped his arms around his brother's limp body, pressing their foreheads together.

Never once did Daryl think this world would take his older brother's life. Merle was tough and nothing could kill him. But he obviously wanted this. He obviously knew what he was doing, otherwise he would still be here.

Getting over the fact that Daryl was the last of his family and that his brother was gone would be hard to realize for a while. With all that's going on, it's hard to keep track of what's real and what's not anymore.

Finally the hunter sighed and released his brother, gently setting Merle back against the wall. He then tried to stand on his shaky legs, moving his hand to his belt where his knife was secured.

He looked at the older's body sitting there, completely lifeless. What Daryl wouldn't give to have Merle yell at him or tell him off right now. He just wanted his brother back, no matter how much of an ass he was.

"I'll miss you too, bro." Daryl said at last. And as much as he hated to admit it to himself, these words would be the last he'd ever say to his older brother, Merle Dixon…


End file.
